


from friends to this

by mysteriesofloves



Category: Gossip Girl (TV 2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fix-It, Getting Back Together, One Shot, Post-Season/Series Finale, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22852477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysteriesofloves/pseuds/mysteriesofloves
Summary: If this is the only way to be close to her, Dan thinks, it will have to be enough.
Relationships: Dan Humphrey/Blair Waldorf
Comments: 25
Kudos: 230





	from friends to this

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this one, so it’s a little self-indulgent. 
> 
> Set about a year after the finale (but before the “five years later”).

It started as an accident, or at least, Dan made it look like one. 

It was the opening day of the Met Gala exhibit _Beyond Fashion_. He saw her in the back of the room, standing in front of a black and white ball gown, surely something from her dreams.

It was like seeing her for the first time again. She was alone, dressed in white, and there was a glow to her that Dan hadn’t seen for a long time. 

He approached her the way he would a stranger, silently standing next to her and pretending to admire the dress. She jumped, startled, when she turned and saw him.

“ _Humphrey_ ,” She regained herself, but Dan could see the red in her cheeks. “Don’t you know it’s rude to sneak up on a girl? Not to mention _creepy_. What are you doing here?” 

“Admiring the artwork.” He said, still looking at her. She rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile threatening to break through. She saw right through him.

“Since when have you been into Charles James? I thought tulle and tutus weren’t your idea of art.” 

He wasn’t as good as she was at hiding his smile. 

“Trying to expand my horizons.” He gestured towards the mannequin in front of them. “Go on, expand.” 

Blair conceded, turning back to the dress, a wistfulness overcoming her. 

“It’s called _Clover Leaf_. The original design was made for Austine Hearst for the coronation ball in 1953. But this one is a duplicate made for Eleanor Searle Whitney.” 

Dan’s amazed by the glint in Blair’s eyes, but there was something else there too. 

“What’s wrong?” He said instinctively. She shook her head. 

“Nothing,” She said, and then, “She was married to a Vanderbilt.”

Dan understood what she meant. He took a sweeping glance of the whole floor, jewels glinting and satin shining against the lights. 

“I could see any one of your dresses being cased in glass here. I give it five years tops before they’re knocking down your door and raiding your closet.” 

Dan watched his words wash over her, her face lighting up when she decided she liked this idea, liked it very much indeed. 

That was the start of something, or the re-starting of something. At first, they went back to their old routine. Three people separating them in line at the Film Forum. 15 minute gaps between each of their entering and exiting every gallery in the city. Back tables at coffee shops and early morning pastry runs. It was easier, now that Gossip Girl was retired, leaving everyone in the dark about everyone else’s lives. 

But they were adults now, they’d grown from their mistakes, and didn’t want to make the same ones again. 

Chuck split his time between cities in countries with a days worth of time difference to New York. Even if Blair had seen him as a problem, which she did _not_ , he never stayed long enough to cause trouble. 

_Friends, just friends_ , she had pressed onto Serena. Serena was apprehensive at first, but settled for preferring not to speak of it. _There are worse coping mechanisms_ , Blair said to her, receiving a scoff and a begrudging eye roll in return. 

Blair had gotten a job as a contributing editor at Vogue, after the success of her collaborations with Waldorf Designs, and her own blog where she chronicled the life of a fashion prodigy on the Upper East Side. She’s happy, the kind of happiness with no strings attached. 

Dan was doing something he hadn’t for a long time. He’s writing. Really writing, not the nonsense he’d been churning out and passing on to his publishers that somehow made it onto the top five of every bestsellers list. _The current state of literature is grave_ , he’d said to an only half-listening Nate. 

He’d laid awake at night wondering if he’d become a sell out, working passionlessly just for the satisfaction of seeing his name at the top of those charts. But now he lost sleep for a different reason, tirelessly typing away until light turned to dark and back to light again. 

Blair doesn’t ask him about the breakup. Dan doesn’t ask her about the divorce. But he thinks about it. He thinks about her signing the papers, disconnecting herself from the person who had kept a hold on her for so much of her life. He thinks about all the times he’d woken up in the middle of the night to find Blair and Serena in the living room, Blair’s face flushed from crying. He thinks about her sleeping alone, on the left side of the bed. How he sleeps alone on the right. If she were to ask him about the breakup, he would have told her the truth. But she doesn’t ask, so he never tells.

 _If this is the only way to be close to her_ , Dan thinks, _it will have to be enough_. 

Blair does, however, ask him about the novel. As does Nate, Rufus, his agent, and every barista in Brooklyn who watches him overdose on caffeine while furiously making notes. He doesn’t let anything slip, telling them that the contents of the novel may never even see the light of day. 

Months went by, with not a week where Dan didn’t see Blair at least once. She woke him up on weekends with coffee at the loft, where Dan had moved back in, and called him on weeknights after work for dinner at her new apartment. He starts to see pieces of her in his closet, new clothes she picked out for him to wear. On his coffee table, dog-eared fashion magazines by the pile. In his kitchen, macaroons and croissants and crème brûlée. 

It’s easy. Mundane, almost. Normal. That might be the weirdest part, Dan thinks. It’s all very normal. 

That is, until one Thursday night in October. 

They just came back from a double feature of _The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone_ and _This Property is Condemned_ at the Film Forum. Blair is curled up on the couch, telling him something about a party celebrating Vogue’s new editors, Dan only half-listening to what she’s saying, while he watches her from the kitchen.

He loves to watch Blair make herself at home in his home. When she tucks her toes under her knees, lets her hair get messy, takes up his personal space, it’s like she never left. _But she did_ , he has to remind himself. 

His thoughts are interrupted when Blair gets off the couch, wringing her hands.

“I need you to do me a favor.” 

“Sure.” Dan says, absentmindedly preparing to have to wake up early to drive her somewhere for something he didn’t care for.

“Comewithmetothepartysaturdaynight”

“Come again?” 

Blair lets out a huff. “Come with me. To the party. Saturday night.” 

“What, like a date?” 

Blair looks at him impatiently. “No, not a _date_. Just someone to hold my purse for the night.” 

“Hmm,” Dan mock-thinks. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m good.” 

“Fine, a date. Or whatever. I just don’t want to go alone. Keep in mind I wouldn’t have asked you if Nate was in the state.” 

“That’s fair. Well, I’ll have to check my schedule...” 

Blair looks at him straight, and Dan thinks you could light a fire with that stare. He nods concededly.

“ _Great_ , I’ll get Rachelle to pick up something from Ferragamo. And Giorgio owes me so I’ll have him make a special house call to tailor it for you.”

“Rachelle? You’re going to have an intern pick out the duds for your man candy?” 

Blair’s face scrunches up like she’s tasted something sour. 

“Never say _duds_ in front of me again. Or _man candy_ for that matter.” 

She turns away, starting to type into her phone, but he catches a glimpse of her smile.

_If this is the only way to be close to her, it will have to be enough._

* * *

On Saturday night, he arrives at her apartment ten minutes before the time she told him to. The suit is nice, dark blue and surely more expensive than anything else he’s ever worn. 

When he knocks, her voice calls from inside, telling him the door is open. 

He waits in the foyer, hands stuffed in his pockets. 

“Don’t you think it’s a little unsafe to keep your door unlocked?” 

She comes out from the bedroom around the corner, lips pursed, a sardonic quip ready to escape. But he doesn’t hear it, doesn’t hear anything, the blood rushing to his ears like he’s been turned upside down. 

She’s wearing a black and white dress, like the _Clover Leaf_. The top hugs tight to her chest, the bottom flaring out around her. Diamonds glint from her ears and around her neck. Her lips are red and thick with gloss. 

Dan thinks all the myths about Venus are true. He thinks she’s standing right in front of him. 

“Humphrey, are you listening to me?”

Dan clears his throat. 

“Yeah - uh, yeah. You look nice.” 

Blair gives him a _look_. 

“I _know_ I do. And you’re... not half bad yourself.”

“Hm, all thanks to Giorgio. But he’s a little handsy, don’t you think?”

Blair packs an innumerable amount of things into her tiny clutch and heads for the door. When she calls the elevator, looking up at him with her big brown eyes, he has to stifle the images coming to his head. 

“He’s a _tailor_ , that’s his job. Your job tonight is to look pretty and not try and outsmart me.“

“So, be Nate?” 

She laughs. 

“Yes, exactly.” 

* * *

For the most part, Dan remains quiet at the party, letting Blair shine, which is never hard to do. He watches Blair thrive in her element, this new element, and feels a sense of pride at the way people look and listen to her. He thinks he would be content to just stand at Blair Waldorf’s arm for the rest of his life. 

But Blair makes an effort to include him, to get him to share his opinion. When cameras flash, she pulls him close, exclaiming “ _Smile!_ ”

After a few too many glasses of champagne, Blair’s coworker Kinsey, blonde and botox-filled and talking a mile a minute says, 

“Blair, aren’t you going to introduce me to your boyfriend? Not that you _need_ an introduction. All of us at the office are _such_ big fans of your recent work. Blair mentioned you were working on a new book. What’s it about?” 

Dan chokes on his drink a little, causing Blair to instinctively put her hand on his back. 

_Boyfriend?_

It takes him a moment to think of what to say. 

“I’m keeping that under wraps for now, but it’s - uh, almost finished, so you’ll find out soon enough.”

“Well, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s great. You should hear the way Blair _brags_ about you... I mean talk about a _power couple_ -“ 

Blair’s hand tenses on Dan’s back. She practically jumps forward, steering him away from the woman. 

“Kinsey, is that Riccardo Tisci over there? Didn’t you have some questions for him for your next piece?” 

Dan isn’t sure whether Kinsey leaves, or Blair forcefully pushes him away. He takes a slow sip from his drink, trying to understand the situation he was just in. 

Blair’s face in front of him brings him back to consciousness. 

“Blair, these people think we’re _dating_ ,” Dan says. Blair looks down at her hands guiltily. 

“ _Blair_.” Dan repeats. 

“It may have slipped out.” 

Dan’s face scrunches up in confusion. 

“How does that slip out?”

Blair rolls her eyes.

“ _Because_ , they have me writing fashion and lifestyle. Travel guides, shopping guides, gift guides. I’m _guiding the masses_ , Humphrey. I can dictate taste sempiternally but when it comes to lifestyle, I think we can agree I’ve been significantly lacking. I can only write about society parties so much. They want stories of romantic escapades and anecdotes about my love life. Not the divorcée drivel I was stuck in a rut writing. So, I thought that letting it slip that I was dating someone, not to mention a _New York Times bestselling_ someone, would peak their interest. And it worked. They love it, they love me. Which is what I’ll need if I ever want to move up to the masthead.” 

“And you didn’t think this was vital information for me to know before I got here?” Dan says, dumbstruck by the incredulousness of the situation. 

“I didn’t tell you because I knew what you would say.” 

“And what’s that?” 

“That this didn’t go so well the first time we tried it.” She doesn’t specify whether she means the time they pretended to date, or the time they really did. Dan doesn’t think about it too hard.

“That’s not what I would have said.” 

Blair looks at him impatiently. “Then what?”

“Plotting and scheming. That’s my girl.”

She beams up at him, and he finds himself staring at the shine of the gloss on her lips. He’s remembering now why just friendship wasn’t enough.

“ _So_ ,” Dan continues haughtily. “You brag about me a lot, do you?” 

Blair smacks him on the arm, turning away to hide the blush on her face. 

* * *

At some point, Blair slips away from him to lay it on thick with some of the higher ups. Dan sips more wines and eats more cheeses than he can pronounce. He wanders to the back of the room, where a table is set up with a line of tablets along it, each one featuring pieces by each new contributor. 

Dan scans over each, before he comes across the one he was looking for. He smiles to himself when he sees the name underlined and in bold. He swipes through the pieces, skimming over the ones about fashion weeks and French restaurants. 

But then he notices a pattern. 

_My boyfriend thinks Boyhood is a feat of filmmaking, probably because he so longs for his own..._

_My boyfriend swears by their cappuccinos, and I trust his opinion just as much as my own. Well, almost as much..._

_You can’t go wrong with Prada’s Fall menswear collection, or at least you can’t if you look like my boyfriend..._

  
  


“ _Dan!_ ” 

He almost knocks over the entire table, turning around with his hands up, feeling like there should be red paint comically dripping off them. But Blair doesn’t notice, just grabs him by the arm and drags him away, into the sea of tipsy guests. 

Blair was right when she said that she had peaked people’s interest. Dan is surprised by the amount of people who want to know more about him, inquiring after his work or asking if he’d take a look at theirs. 

They stumble into a group of staff writers, one of them talking about a model he’s been seeing, who couldn’t be there because he was on a shoot in London. When he sees them, he turns. 

“What about you two? How long have you been together?”

“Four months.” Blair says, cool and calculatingly sweet. 

“Officially,” Dan interjects. “First we were friends in high school, but sometimes it takes a change of scenery to see what’s right in front of you.” He feels Blair’s eyes burning into him. “And then we tried dating, but things didn’t work. But I was still in love with her for three years before she finally asked me out. Again. And now...” He looks down at Blair, who’s watching him with a look he can’t quite figure out, which worries him. He’s always been able to figure her out.

“And now things work.” She finishes, looking back to her colleagues.

She excuses herself, taking Dan’s hand in hers and pulling him to the bar. He hopes she can’t feel his pulse pounding in his wrist. 

She orders them both drinks, and only lets go of his hand to grab her glass, gulping down half of it before speaking.

“You’re a better actor than I thought, Humphrey.” 

He spreads his palms on the wood of the bar, in an effort to cool them down.

“Did you forget I was the lead in the school play?” 

He watches the realization dawn on her. She _had_ forgotten. 

“I suppose that was the real first time we... did this. Pretended.” 

Dan nods, disillusioned. He takes small sips of his drink, his mind blurred enough already. 

He throws a glance over his shoulder, where he sees the group of Blair’s colleagues huddled together, watching them. They would have been discreet, too, if Dan hadn’t gotten used to the feeling of being watched. 

“We’ve got an audience.” He hears himself saying. The alcohol is _definitely_ taking over. 

Blair looks behind them, then back to him. There was always a certain satisfaction to seeing the wheels turn behind her eyes. 

“Do you remember the show we gave them? As Archer and Olenska?” 

Dan swallows the lump that’s starting to form in his throat. He nods.

Blair steps forward, so that her body blocks Dan from the onlookers. _Pretending_ , he forces to the forefront of his mind. _Pretending_. Then she takes his face in her hands and kisses him, open-mouthed and sloppy. His hands go around her waist, up her back, into her hair. She presses her hips against his. All semblance of pretend forgotten. All time apart, not doing exactly this, forgotten. 

When they part, neither of them look back to see if they’ve impressed their audience. Blair wipes the lip gloss off of Dan’s face with a sweet smile. Dan feels hot and cold at the same time, the sudden presence of Blair and the sudden absence of her both striking him. He holds the bar to steady himself, feeling lightheaded, all the blood rushing down from his head. Blair clears her throat, drinking down the rest of her liquor. 

The party goes on for another hour after that. They mingle and they eat and they do everything except meet each other’s eyes. Blair keeps her hand on Dan’s arm, and he’s grateful for the barrier his suit gives him between the contact of their skin. 

In the cab back, Dan is painfully aware of their bodies against each other. Each pothole they hit sends Blair springing into his side, achingly close to being in his lap. _Goddammit, why did he get these pants tailored so tight._ He keeps his eyes trained on the streets of the city, light rain dusting the window. 

When the cab stops at the loft first, Dan hesitates.

“Sorry, could you actually go to the second address first?” He looks over at Blair.

“I’d feel better if I made sure you got home safe.” 

“Always the gentleman. But how about we both just get out here.” She hands the driver the fare, moving to open the door.

“You - uh, you want to come inside?” He says stupidly. 

“Do you _not_ want me to come inside?”

“No, I mean,” _Stupid stupid stupid_. “Of course, come in. Mi casa, tu casa.” _Stupid_. 

But Blair laughs, tipping her head back regally. 

  
  


When they get inside, Blair takes a seat on the couch, kicking off her heels and tucking her feet under her knees, the bottom of her dress puffed around her. She looks like a painting. 

“Should we order pizza? Basille’s might still be open -“ 

“I read your pieces.” Dan says. “Blair, they’re not about romantic escapades or made up stories of grand gestures. They’re just about us. Our everyday life.“

He brings himself to look at her. She’s giving him those doe eyes, that small pout. He wants to go over there and kiss it off her. 

“I like our everyday life. I can’t think of anything more romantic than enjoying every minute you spend with someone.” 

Dan thinks his heart might stop. 

“Why did you lie about us to them? Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

“Because I knew what you would say,” her voice is low, almost a whisper. “That this didn’t go so well the first time we tried it.”

“That’s not what I would have said.” 

Dan forces his feet towards her. He holds out his hand. 

“I want to show you something.” 

Dan leads her into the study, where the pages of his novel sit atop his desk. 

“Is this what you’ve been keeping so secret, your _magnum opus_?” 

Dan nods. “Go ahead. Read it.” 

Blair looks at him curiously. She lifts the first page carefully, her eyes scanning the lines. She flips the pages, a few at a time, taking it all in. 

She runs her fingers over the words, like she wants the ink to bleed, to stain her. 

“This is about me.” She says finally, and underneath the satisfaction, Dan detects a hint of disbelief. 

“It’s about us.” 

She looks up at him, her mouth hanging open. 

“Did you light that torch for me back up, Humphrey?” But there’s no teasing in her voice.

Dan shakes his head slightly. 

“It never went out.” 

She drops the pages back onto the desk, and before he can even realize it’s happening, her mouth is on his, her hands on his neck. She kisses him hard, hungry, like the first time tonight really was just for show. Like this was the moment she had been waiting for since the last time it happened. 

* * *

At the end of the year, Dan’s novel comes out.

_For my Clover Leaf,_

_Every time I see you, you happen to me all over again._

It ranks number eight on the bestseller list.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Paper Rings by Taylor Swift


End file.
